The Honorable Imposter (House of Winslow Book #1) by Morris Gilbert

Author:Morris, Gilbert [Morris, Gilbert]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9780764229145
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2004-06-01T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

ANOTHER KIND OF STORM

The sun breaking through the next day brought calm weather, but there was a taste of snow in the air. For the next three days Miles Standish drove the men hard at musket practice. His sharp voice harrying the settlers rang out for long hours, and more than once, one of the elders found it necessary to reprove him for his language.

“Aye, Reverend Bradford, it’s not best for a man to use foul language, but do ye realize we’ll be moving through enemy territory in a few days? Our lives will depend on these butter-fingered yokels! Why, sir, the whole colony could go down if these men don’t do better!”

“I’ll pray about it, Captain,” Bradford said; his giving way marked how determined he was to plant a colony for God. He spent night and day going about the ship, encouraging the weak, nursing the sick, and for long hours he retreated to the lower deck to pray.

Standish gave Gilbert, who was standing by, a sly wink, saying, “Right! You do the praying and I’ll do the drilling!”

The first day of sword drill, Gilbert had been challenged by Standish, who said, “Let me see what stuff you have, Winslow!” There had been astonishment in his eyes, however, when Gilbert toyed with him, balancing on his good leg. Time and again Standish had tried to drive through for a touch, but Gilbert had smiled and with the tip of his blade sent that of Standish wide. It was obvious that the younger man could have won at any time, and finally Standish stood there puffing with effort. It was a tense moment, for the little man fancied himself a fighter and did not like to lose.

Then he had smiled and said, “I’m not much on religion, Winslow, but if I get around to prayers any time soon, I’ll give a thanksgiving for you! I’ve never seen a better blade—where’d you pick up the skill?”

Gilbert had not gone into details, and no one had seen the encounter, so Standish had not been shamed before the crew.

Most of the men were on deck for the drill, as were many of the women and children. There was no danger from flying lead, and quite a bit of rivalry had sprung up. The saints, Gilbert had learned at Leyden, loved simple games; and the fencing and drill, pitting man against man, took their fancy, breaking the dull monotony of the long days.

As Gilbert gave a few instructions and stood back to watch the participants, he glanced around the deck, noting that the voyage had not dissolved the factions and sects on the Mayflower.

The saints were crowded together in a group over on the starboard rail—the Allertons, Carvers, Tilleys, Tinkers, Whites.

The strangers, perhaps not by chance, took station on the port deck—the Billingtons (the largest family on board), Chilton, Eaton, Hopkins, and Mullins families.

Ranging around the poop deck many of the ship’s crew lounged, taking in the sight with half-whispered jokes from Daggot and O’Neal.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.